let fire burn our skins
by The Next-Gen Fanatics
Summary: Let's make believe that this is real. - Crossgen drabbles - #7: Draco/Lucy
1. RonLysander

**Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to any of the Next-Gen Fanatics.**

**This will be a drabble collection from the Drabble Tag on our forum, consisting of all our crossgen stories =]**

**Warnings: **this collection contains huge age differences between couple, if that wasn't already clear.

This particular drabble contains slash, and some foul language. Please don't read it if you're offended by either of those things.

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><p><strong>prompt:<strong> 'fuck you'

**pairing: **ron/lysander

**writer: **lonely hands

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><p>(<em>it's easy enough to pretend like<em>) It has something to do with the way he looks like Rose.

It's all in the eyes, of course - and _sure,_ Rose has that Granger hazel, but the two of them have that same blazing look down perfectly, and who is Lysander to try to deny a pair of pretty, blue eyes, after all?

And okay, he's a little drunk - aren't they all? - and he's much too young at eighteen to know what he wants from the world, but as the neck of his beer bottle slips through his shaking hands, Lysander forgets of dancing through Ravenclaw tower with a redheaded girl three years his junior, and finds his golden head lolling to lean on the shoulder of a hazy-eyed Ron Weasley.

Their eyes meet lazily, a smirk is shared and oh, if he shuffled just an inch closer...

And oh, oh, _oh_, is it a surprise to find himself flat on his back, pinned down by the weight of an older man - but it's easy to forget that this is the bloke who had teased his mother at the age of thirteen.

His hand somehow fists into Ron's shirt, anchoring him mere inches from Lysander's chest, and the teenager lunges upwards, claiming a swift ownership of the redhead's lips.

"Bloody hell," Ron chokes, slapping at Lysander's restraining hands with a flushed complexion and rolling away from the confused blonde with a look of pure unadultered horror sketched across his features.

"_Fuck you_," Lysander hisses, reeling at the sudden change in Ron and as he straightens, he sways on his feet, the stars winking down at him in the night sky and oh, the secrets they would spill onto the grass, if only they could.

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	2. PansyTeddyVictoire

**pairing: **pansy/teddy/victoire

**prompt: **war

**writer:** fabricated fantasies

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><p>He wonders, sometimes, how two girls can be so different.<p>

Pansy's sarcastic, and desperate, and shattered into a million tiny pieces, her hair and clothes perfect as she tries to hide her bruised and broken heart. She's seen war and heartbreak and death, and her eyes are hooded like one who is haunted by all they have seen, all they have done. She stands on the edge of a cliff, so close to falling off that it seems ridiculous that she hasn't yet. She shoves him up against the wall, her hands bruising his hips as if he can make her feel something other than pain, other than desperate loneliness and pain.

Victoire, on the other hand, is light and wonder and innocence, and so absolutely perfect because she never has to try to be. She's comfortable just sitting beside him, his hand clasped in hers as they gaze at her family being stable and happy and content, and she is the girl who holds his heart, for now.

He's always had a fascination for the dark side.

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	3. TeddyLilyDraco

**pairing: **TeddyLilyDraco  
><strong>prompt:<strong> stolen glances  
><strong>writer:<strong> fabricated fantasies

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><p><em>It's a little bit wrong, and it's a little bit right, and that blurry line of indecision will l e a d them out of heaven.<em>

_**I.** Draco_

He watches out a foggy window at the two children laughing and playing in the rain outside. He sighs; he was never as carefree as his young cousin and his cousin's friend - his father would never have allowed such blatant foolishness.

_**II.** Lily_

She grows up into a young girl, a fiery temptress with eyes of molten chocolate -{the same as her mother's eyes, don't you know?}- who captivates young men with her charming smiles and wicked laughter, though her sense of fun has gotten her into trouble many a time.

**III.** _Teddy_

He's bright turqouise, both inside and out. His hair matches his heart, all Ravenclaw bronze&blue, ever ready to present his Lily with a scrap of knowledge and a heartfelt smile. He watches her flirt and dance around her willing audience, and watches his much older cousin watch her.

_**IV.** DracoandLily_

She's ever so slightly out of reach, that playful girl of his - though she isn't yours, is she, Draco? - and he finds it easy to find the child in this red-headed firework called Lily. _That's why this crushis sososo wrong_, he tells himself, but he can't help the h u m of electricity that shoots through his body when she speaks.

_**V.** TeddyandLily_

She is only barely within his reach, this bombshell of loveandlustandjoywho is practically his cousin - not to mention the age difference. _Too young, too young_ becomes his constant mantra, but when she dances a little too close, he can't help but reach out and touch this angel.

_TeddyandLilyandDraco_

She sees their ohso subtle stolen glances and smiles. She is all they want, and they are all that she has ever wanted, _and eventually all three will work this out_, she thinks.

_For each is only one of three, and the age old story of a boy and a girl and a boy will unfold_ -in time.

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	4. DominiqueDraco

**pairing: **dominique/draco**  
>prompt: <strong>"just shut up and _do_ it."  
><strong>writer: <strong>intersections

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><p>"Where do we go from here?" she demands, whirling around to face him. He's standing right behind her (and is that nerves she detects on that usually cocky, self-assured face?), hands twisting in his pockets. "Don't speak." She takes a step closer to him daringly, tensed like a cat about to spring. "Don't say anything. I know what you'll tell me. I don't want to hear it."<p>

Draco takes a step towards her in what would have been a confident manner if he hadn't hesitated. "Dominique…"

"Look," she says, hands on her hips. They're three feet apart, now. "I don't care that you're Scorpius' father. I don't care that you're married. I don't care that you're old enough to be my dad. It doesn't matter to me, okay?" She realises she's shouting now, but she doesn't dare back down. "I'm sick of this whole forbidden love act. I want you. Merlin, I want you now."

He opens his mouth, taking another step forward.

"Don't say anything!" she repeats, louder this time. "Don't. Don't tell me what I don't want to hear, please. Let me end it myself. Let me save my dignity."

"I wasn't going to end it," he manages to get in, the words blurring into one another though it still sounds silky smooth and ohso arrogant.

Dominique freezes. "You weren't?"

"I shouldn't," he says smoothly. "I shouldn't want you. You're nineteen, I'm too old, but I'm a Malfoy." A smirk graces his lips. "And I don't care." They're two feet apart now—one foot—his face is millimeters from hers. "I want to kiss you. Right now. I don't care how wrong it is."

She rolls her eyes, not even trying to hide her grin. "Just shut up and do it."

And he does.

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	5. NevilleMolly

prompt: lies

pairing: NevilleMolly

writer: Stolen Sunshine

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><p>"We can't do this anymore, Molly. It isn't right." He pleaded with her, his big blue eyes that made her feel so weak in the knees bore straight into her.<p>

"And why not? Why isn't it right?" She said, her tone harsher than she had meant for it to be. "If two people feel this way about each other then it shouldn't matter!"

Neville turned away from the redhead who was so wise, wise much beyond her few years. "It doesn't make any difference Molly, I'm your teacher for Merlin's sake! I could lose my job if anyone found out! I could lose everything if this got out!" He threw his hands up as the weight of his actions over the past few months fully hit him. They had both always been the type of person to think things through and to always have a plan but maybe that's why they needed each other. Maybe they needed the midnight meetings and broomcloset tussels.

"Then look at me." She said taking his chin in her petite hand and forcing his face towards hers so that she was staring into his eyes. "Look at me and tell me that you don't love me. Tell me that you never want this again, that you never want me again." Her voice was cold and unfeeling, like the ice princess the entire school thought she was.

"I don't love you. I don't want you." He said with a deep breath.

"Liar." She spat and turned away, walking to the door. He couldn't believe that he had actually lied to her. He had never lied to her and of course she knew he was lying. She knew him almost as well as he knew himself. She turned sharply just before she was out of the door. Molly looked at him with her piercing steel green eyes. "It's easy to be safe. It's easy to be do what your family and your friends and the world tells you to do, Neville. It's hard to be happy."

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	6. AstoriaTeddy

**prompt:** who controls the future controls the past

**pairing:** AstoriaTeddy

**writer:** a walk on th side

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><p><em>"Who controls the past controls the future; who controls the present controls the past."<em>

He knows it won't do much (that whispered words in the middle of the night never mean much about anything) but still he tries, hoping that maybe something he can say will help her.

She's tormented by everything she's ever done, every moment of Slytherin she's ever been. The lives that she's mercilessly destroyed and the hearts she so carelessly shattered and left on the ground.

She's far too independent, but he's got the idea that if he controls her, he can control her memories and make her see everything her husband doesn't. If he controls her past, maybe, just maybe he'll be able to control her future (but he knows he's kidding himself).

If he controls her past he'll control her future (fingerscrossedfingerscrossed), and whoever controls her present (him-always him) will control her past.

Well, that's his logic anyway.

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	7. DracoLucy

**pairing:** DracoLucy  
><strong>prompt:<strong> she doesn't believe in fairytales  
><strong>writer:<strong> coffee-stained lips

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><p>She doesn't believe in fairytales; stories about dragons and knights and princes with their princesses - she hates them, just despises them, because there's nothing real about them. A dragon would burn any man to a crisp, especially if he only had a <em>sword.<em>

But then she meets _him_, at the train station, and his hair is fair and his eyes the shade of stormclouds, and all those pathetic tales of princes her mother told and Molly loved come back to her because he looks like a prince. And he is a prince, the _Slytherin_ prince, and she may be a Hufflepuff but all her tendancies are silver-and-green.

She feels so secure around him because he kisses her neck lightly and whispers promises of taking her to castles high on mountain tops and travelling with her and Uncle Charlie to tame the dragons, and she believes in him because fairytales are so fake, but he's _real_ (don't be a fool, girl, he's as fake as they come).

She kisses his knuckles one by one, and tells him how she wants this to be forever love, but she's just a girl and he's aman, and there's one knuckle she can't kiss because there's a wedding ring on it. And it kills her, shoots to her core and explodes from there, when she sings her that Muggle song because she thinks it may just be a big lie, that he still thinks he's in love with her, but it can't be because she never believed in fairytales, but she's always hoped for love.

So Lucy doesn't believe in fairytales; but she believes in heartbreak.

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